


Self-Esteem Issues

by leymedown



Series: Les Amis Moderne [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Can be read alone, Cutting, Eating Disorders, Gen, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 12:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leymedown/pseuds/leymedown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire finds out Jehan has an eating disorder. They talk about their pasts and what their pasts caused them to do. Then they make a promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-Esteem Issues

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry not sorry. I also have this up on [Tumblr](http://actualgamzee.tumblr.com/post/45888697599/self-esteem-issues-fandom-les-mis-obv-modern-au)

“I just want to be pretty,” Jehan whispered. Although he was talking to the man across the table, he refused to look up from the cup of coffee he held in his hands, long since gone cold.

“You are,” his companion replied, “You always have been.”

“Don’t say that,” the hold Jehan has on his mug tightened, “It’s not true, so don’t tell me it is. You just want me to feel better, but lying to me isn’t going to work. You, of all people, should know that, R, so don’t try.”

Grantaire sighed. “I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. You know that, Jehan, so don’t try to tell me otherwise.”

Jehan glared at his coffee but didn’t reply. Grantaire sighed again.

“When did it start?”

Jehan didn’t answer. After a few moments of awkward silence, Grantaire decided to take a different approach.

“I was thirteen when I got drunk for the first time.” Upon hearing this, Jehan’s eyes shifted so he could peer at Grantaire through the hair that had fallen in front of his face.

“I raided the kitchen looking for booze and found some beers,” Grantaire continued, “It was the same day as one of those health classes where they tell you all the effects of drugs and alcohol and why they were bad. Obviously, I didn’t give a shit. In fact, now that I think about it, I guess I wanted one of those bad things to happen to me. Like, maybe someone would care if it did? All I succeeded in doing was making myself sick. As you can see, that didn’t stop me from going back. No one cared. My dad was long gone, my mom was busy working multiple jobs, I never had any close friends…no one was around to care anyways. Drinking made me forget that, but…it wasn’t enough. Forgetting wasn’t enough.”

He paused a moment, then rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt and held his arms out in front of him. Jehan finally looked up.

Grantaire’s arms were covered in dark red and purple scars. Most weren’t too bad, but they showed clearly against his tan skin. A few were recent.

Jehan stood up.Quickly, Grantaire rolled his sleeves back down and thrust his hands into his pockets. Jehan met Grantaire’s gaze, then pulled his own sweatshirt over his head, then the t-shirt underneath it.

His ribs showed through his skin individually and his hip bones jutted out, causing a where his jeans should touch his stomach. In fact, his stomach was nearly non-existent, his skin just something to hold his bones in. That was all he seemed to be - bones.

Light pink scars littered his stomach and sides. Compared to Grantaire’s, they weren’t that bad. Except for one.

Carved directly above his belly button, one word stood out in bright red:

‘Ugly’

Grantaire gasped, then stood as well, immediately pulling Jehan into a tight embrace.

They stood in that embrace for a while, before Grantaire sat back down, pulling Jehan with him so that they shared the chair. Jehan muttered something.

“What was that?” Grantaire asked.

“I was fourteen,” Jehan repeated. He fell silent again, but Grantaire didn’t push him.

“High school was hard for me,” Jehan eventually explained. “I wasn’t…well…I was a lot different than I am now. I hit my growth spurt early, then stopped growing so I was shorter than the other boys. I was…bigger…too. I never really had any male friends, and then all my female friends abandoned me because they were suddenly all interested in fashion and boys and other girly things. They said I couldn’t join them…and that I couldn’t like those girly things…and that I was nothing but a fat, ugly queer.”

He let out a little sob and Grantaire held him tighter, petting his hair.

“So I tried to be someone else,” Jehan continued, “I worked out incessantly and I forced myself to play sports. Suddenly, I had friends and I was popular and…I wasn’t me anymore. We ended up moving my senior year, thank God for that. I decided to stop pretending, but it wasn’t that easy. I was too big for the clothes I wanted to wear. I was too manly for how I wanted to present myself.” - Grantaire almost snorted at the thought of a manly Jehan. Almost. “So I just…stopped eating. My parents assumed I was just losing muscle mass because I was no longer playing sports. I joined the writing club, took art, and grew my hair out. No one really cared about what I did or how I looked. Well, I cared. I couldn’t convince myself that they didn’t care either. And it just…all added up. And here I am.”

“And here you are,” Grantaire repeated in reply, “And hear you’ll stay.”

Jehan shuddered and Grantaire let go of him so he could put his shirt and sweatshirt back on.

They looked at each other in silence for a while before Jehan asked, “What do we do now?”

“We get help,” Grantaire replied without missing a beat.

“No!” Jehan shouted and backed away, “I can’t let anyone else know! I can’t - ”

“Both of us,” Grantaire interjected, “If you let me bring you to the hospital, I’ll go to rehab.”

“How do I know you’ll go through with it?”

“I’ll have the rehab center call you. Hell, I could have Enjolras drop me off with you there to watch.”

“No…no, I don’t want Enjolras to know…I just…do you promise you’ll go?”

“I will if you will.”

“I promise.”


End file.
